


Badass is a Family Trait

by msred



Series: Bright Blessed Days, Dark Sacred Nights [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, New York, Puckleberry family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msred/pseuds/msred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jude getting in a fight with his bully? Pretty unexpected. But Rachel gettin’ into it with the kid’s mom? That was some Punk’d shit right there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Badass is a Family Trait

**Author's Note:**

> This piece belongs to a series of stories about Puck and Rachel and the little family they have built for themselves in New York. They will be posted in whatever order I write them, which means whatever order the ideas occur to me, which really means no order at all.

“Upstairs, Little Man.”

Rachel hears her boys come in, her husband sending their six-year-old son directly to his bedroom. She focuses all her attention on wiping down the island in the kitchen – just like she’s been doing for the last 15 minutes. She needs an excuse not to look at him when he comes in; she knows he’s probably not happy. She also knows she shouldn’t try to avoid him, but it’s been a really long day for her and she isn’t sure she can handle whatever he’s going to say right now.

“So,” Puck finds his wife in the kitchen, cleaning a countertop that looks plenty clean enough to him. “Just left Jude’s school. Interesting talk with the principal.” He wants to smirk when she drops her dishtowel on the island and braces her hands on the edge, but he schools his features, crossing his arms and leaning back against the opposite counter, in case she turns around.

See, the last thing Puck had expected when he picked his son up from school was to get called into the principal’s office over a fight. Well, almost-fight. Close enough. Sure, he knew there’d been some other kid picking on Jude for a while now. Apparently, mini-douche didn’t approve of Little Man’s wardrobe. (And throwing out the name _Kurt Hummel?_ So not impressive to a first grader.) He’d had his own suggestions for how to fix the situation, but Rachel’d stepped in real fast with all her _violence isn’t the answer, people like that aren’t worth your time, just walk away_ business. He’d bit his tongue then and agreed with his wife, partly because they always put up a united front and she was right like, 97.3% of the time anyway, but also because he didn’t want his son being the same guy he’d been, just in case there wasn’t some bossy brunette whirlwind around to straighten him out later on. He didn’t want Jude being a Rachel-clone either, though, particularly in this area. She had mastered the art of walking away from a bully, possibly when she was even younger than Jude is now, to the point that he had to come along and straighten _her_ out - when it came to standing up for herself, at least. (Ya know, unless it had to do with a solo or somethin’, that part she had down.)

That was why it had been such a shock to him when Mrs. Lewis sat him down in her office that afternoon and explained everything that had happened in the morning. Seriously – like he’d just kind of stared at her for a full minute, then looked around for the hidden camera. Because Jude getting in a fight with his bully? Pretty unexpected. But Rachel gettin’ into it with the kid’s mom? That was some _Punk’d_ shit right there.

“What happened to walkin’ away, Rach?”

She hears the amusement in his voice (come on, she _knows_ her husband), and a little of the tension – that part that was there only because she was worried about his reaction – slides away. Still, she doesn’t really appreciate his teasing at the moment. “I know,” she slides her hands up onto the counter and leans into them, “but you didn’t see her. She was such a _bitch_.” She nearly growls the word that she has used only a handful of times in her life, including the now two times she’s said it today.

“Sounds like you made that pretty clear.” He almost chuckles at her, but then she turns to face him and her chest is heaving and he tries really hard to think about something other than just how hot she is. (But when has he ever succeeded at that?)

Rachel groans a little in frustration. She knows what she did was immature, okay? Immature and counterproductive and the exact opposite of what she and Noah are trying to teach Jude. But he’s her boy, her and Noah’s Little Man, and that woman … she just couldn’t control herself. “It’s just … it’s hard enough on him as it is, you know? Being the celebrity kid.” She rolls her eyes at the term, because she hates labeling her son that way, but under the circumstances it’s the only thing that really seems to fit. “He’s just trying to be normal, to fit in. The last thing he needs is some _bully_ picking on him. I know what it’s like to deal with bullies, Noah. We both do, and,” she takes a deep breath, and when she lets it out she feels a little of her anger go with it so that she kind of deflates a little bit, “I don’t want him to go through that. He’s my baby, Noah.”

“He’ll be fine.” Puck’s trying to reassure her, of course, but he really believes that, too. There’s too much of both of them in that little boy for him not to be. “He’s a tough kid.” Rachel just kind of looks at him like she doesn’t quite believe him. “But you know what, I’ll take care of it.” He lets his hands drop so that they’re kind of resting on the edge of the countertop beside his hips and sends her that smile he knows she loves. “Just,” the smile shifts into a smirk as he crosses one ankle over the other and rests more of his weight on the counter so that he’s practically sitting on it at this point, “in the meantime, try not to kill anyone. ‘K, slugger?”

Rachel ignores that last comment. She knows what he’s doing. He’s an expert at riling her up and making her forget nearly everything except him. She narrows her eyes a little before asking, “What are you going to do?” It’s not that she doubts him. She’s known since – well, she’s always known – that if he says he’s going to do something she may as well go ahead and consider it done. She’s just genuinely curious about what he has in mind.

“I’m gonna call his mom a bitch and then push her,” he says, as seriously as he’s ever said anything. She just rolls her eyes and turns her back on him again.

“Oh that’s right,” Puck thinks he’s done pretty good – he’s made it this far without even cracking a smile (well, besides that one, but, ya know, that was totally for her benefit) – but he can’t keep it up any longer. He laughs outright as he continues. “You already did that.” He laughs even a little bit harder when she turns her head to look at him over her shoulder with a clearly unamused ‘ _ha-ha_.’

“Look,” he continues after a minute, once he’s mostly stopped laughing. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, okay, but I’ll figure it out.”

Rachel lets her shoulders drop a little, feeling herself deflate entirely. He’s making jokes now, but she knows all she’s really done is make more work for both of them in the long run. They’re going to have to explain to Jude why Mommy pushed another little boy’s mommy and said bad words to her, and they’re still going to have to figure out how to help him handle his bully. Most of that is probably going to fall to Noah, since all her own credibility on the matter took a hike along with her composure that morning. He’s a wonderful father and she knows he loves his son and would do anything for him, but she hates that she just added to the list of things he actually has to do.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs, her thumbnail picking at the grout between the counter tiles.

“Are you kidding me?” His voice is incredulous – and very close. She leans back into him when his hands land on her hips.

Puck slides his hands around until they rest, one just above the other, low on her stomach. He flexes them, his fingers pressing into her skin just enough to hold her body against his, and leans down, pushing her hair aside with his chin. His lips brush across her ear as he almost whispers, “My girl is a badass.” He actually nips at her ear a little with his teeth and smirks when he feels her shiver against him before raising one hand to rest on the back of his neck. “That’s hot.”


End file.
